#and then everybody else bc they all make me want to cry i want to hug each and every single one of them

[teddybeartoji]

hi there, mickey!! i just got a little curious, what is the anime/manga that you’re most emotionally attached to? (if there’s any ofc)

because i just read a little poem about aot and immediately started crying — and i don’t cry a lot!! so i wondered if there was something that made you feel similar

HI HI HIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! mmmm i think i'm definitely the most emotionally attached to jjk................. it's the things that started this whole thing for me afterall yk? like ok i had seen some stuff years and years ago but then i got into jjk aaaand well not to be dramatic but it did kind of change my life lmao

so so so many of the characters are SO fucking dear to me that i do genuinely get upset if i think abt their deaths/dying for like a minute... i just love them so much they all mean so much to me. and reading fanfiction and just seeing fanart of them gets me in my feels too it's so over for me😭😭😭 not to mention how much i've cried over the fuckass leaks ashgdghasghdhggha goddddd gege has really done a number on me huh..........

but they bring me so much joy too. it's literally the smallest things like lately i've been seeing a lot of tiktoks abt ppl with jjk skins fucking around in fortnite and hgsghadghdshga they make me so happy idk i am very easily entertained... buuuuut i also just love talking abt them with my friends, kind of analyzing and figuring out what they'd do in different situations. assigning them poems and songs, different types of tropes and etc it really does make me smile so big when i get to delve deeper into their personalities yk?

one more addition that i feel like really shows how attached i really am to them is that i've cried over MY OWN writing lmao like putting any of the jjk characters in bad situations makes me feel fucking awful it's so hard i hate it😭😭😭

[freebooter4ever]

.

[luveline]

can I request eddie with golden retriever!reader, maybe where she gets upset because she overheard people calling her stupid and he sees her cry for the first time and it breaks his heart bc even though she’s upset, she’s trying to be happy? a big hurt/comfort moment?

thank you so much for your request! i love him so much i just wanna squeeze him <3 fem!reader, 1k

Eddie stands in the doorway, and you're lucky he's around. He looks pretty today in his softest manner, plaid shirt tied around his waist, a shirt with cut off sleeves showcasing the lengths of his arms and all their subtle muscle, inky dark tattoos climbing his skin in whorls. His hand moves forward toward you, pale fingers bright even in the dark room. 

"It's a party," he says, "what are you doing here all by yourself?" 

You wipe your running nose with your sleeve for lack of a tissue. Sniffling, you say, "I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone. I'll be right there." 

Eddie closes the door with an easy swiftness. He flicks on the lamp, and he looks at you like you've pulled the rug from under his sneakers. 

"It's fine," you say quickly. You add a laugh you're not quite feeling, not wanting him to worry about you. "Don't stress." 

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?" he says immediately, no punches held. 

"It's not, everybody cries." 

Eddie sits on the end of the bed. The bedspread is a washed out grey, the room someone else's and unfamiliar. You hadn't wanted to have anyone come upon you messy crying in the bathroom, slipping into the master bedroom without a word. It's weird to be among other people's things. It has the feeling of isolation creeping in all over again.

Eddie puts his hand on your thigh. "What's wrong?" he asks, squeezing gently. 

"It's really not a big deal." 

"Humour me then. What's bad enough to make you cry?" 

You swipe under your eyes, his questioning prompting another wave of useless tears. They well big and drop fast down your cheeks like warm summer rain on your cool skin. "It's really stupid," you say with a wet laugh. You can't wipe your face fast enough.

"This is agony for me, you realise?" he says, in a tone that's not as teasing as his usual dramatics. "Seeing you upset? Tell me who said something mean and I'll kick their ass." 

"No, Eddie, you can't." 

"So someone did say something mean?" he asks. 

You trace the curve of a silver ring on his fingers as his hand rubs a slow back and forth over your jeans. The ache in your spine from slouching forward into your hands twinges as you begin to relax, your upset softened by his comforting touch. You don't answer him, only look at his hand, tear after tear curving along the slope of your cheek to meet under your chin. You bring your shoulder up and wipe your chin into your t-shirt. 

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, patting your leg, "you can tell me. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I gotta know what's making you cry." 

You loll your head to the side and give him a sad smile. "D'you ever get the feeling that… that everyone's just pretending to like you?" 

"No, but… that's because people don't bother pretending, with me," he says. 

You nod appreciatively. "Well…" 

"It doesn't matter, I can guess. I can guess how it would feel. You think people are just pretending to like you?" 

"I know so," you say. 

Eddie takes his hand from your thigh. You don't have time to mourn the loss —his arm comes up behind you, fingers curling gently at your hip. "C'mere," he whispers, closing the gap between your sides. 

"People saying shit about you?" he asks. 

"You know Gareth's friend? The shorter one? He was laughing with his girlfriend about how stupid I sounded when I was telling you about that octopus thing and I… I know I sounded stupid, it was basically a joke, you know?" You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's dumb." 

"That wasn't stupid, that was interesting."

"In what world?"

"Hey, I can deal with idiots talking down on you, that's what idiots do, but I won't hear it from you. Okay? Don't piss me off," he warns jokingly, giving your waist a small shake against him. "You're not stupid. Do you know how fucking smart, how unshakeable you have to be to see the good in the world? It's easy to give into cynicism, that's why I do it."

"Eddie," you laugh. 

"So you got excited about something a bit weird," he says, "so what? Why should they get to say that's stupid?" 

"Is it really weird?" you ask. 

"Super fucking weird, babe." 

He sounds pleased to have said it, his smile audible, his breath a warm fanning against your cheek. You know you're moments away from a chaste kiss pressed sneakily to the skin just shy of your ear. 

You're shameful. "Is that bad?" you ask. 

Eddie kisses you as you'd expected, right on the mark. "No," he says resolutely, grinning at you though you can hardly see him, he's so close. "No way. We're weirdos together."

You let him make you feel better with another hug, this one double-armed, the short stubble of his chin scratching your cheek. Hands full of his hair, you squeeze him tight enough to bruise, pleased when he groans and yanks out of your arms. 

"That how it is?" he asks. 

"Isn't it always?" 

Eddie takes your face into rough hands. You're under no illusion —delusion, even— that he might close the inches between you. This is a Munson style telling off, eyes locked to yours, forcing you to listen. 

"You scared the shit out of me, but don't think you have to come and sit in a dark room crying by yourself. That's not okay. That's a bit sick, actually." 

"Are you serious?" 

"As a heart attack." 

He rubs your cheeks childishly, pushing them up so they apple. Then, with much more tenderness, he wipes the tacky triangles of your eyelashes with the tip of his thumb. "No crying in empty rooms. You have to do it when I'm around, so I can make fun of you." 

"You're very charming," you say sweetly. 

Something funny stutters over his face, like a slice of sincerity through his bravado. "Only with you, sweetheart."  

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

[tododeku-or-bust]

could you elaborate a bit on that post abt (not) wearing headphones in public/playing your phone out loud? i was under the idea that it was nice to not play stuff aloud bc ppl might have migraines or be sound avoidant, but didn't realize i might just be seeing it from a white perspective, and id love to learn more

All right! First, check this link out: Xochitl does a far more eloquent job of explaining the idea than I would:

I assume that you're specifically honing in on my tag about the "white right of comfort".

Okay, so here's the thing. You're allowed to find public noise annoying. I too, find public TikToks and music annoying! And if you have migraines and such, I can understand how it would be impolite and inconvenient.

But what you're NOT allowed to do, is feel entitled to the public and prioritizing your OWN comfort in it over everyone else to the point of DEMANDING that it conforms to you or it's "bad". Especially when there are things you as an individual can do to prevent this discomfort.

While this gross sense of entitlement is very first world American in nature, it is extremely White American in nature because white Americans actually have the social power to enforce what they believe is the "right" thing based on their own standards.

For many cultures around the world and for many people of color, noise in the community is a GOOD thing. It's part of being a community. I feel safer if the people around me feel safe enough to be outside, to exist and to be, visibly in public.

And you got to understand, while many white people think they're genuinely in the right for believing that being loud on public transit or in the public is worth enforcing as a "bad" thing, people of color have literally already been killed for it. A Black teenager was shot in the face for playing music that a white man didn't like. A Black mentally ill man was murdered in front of EVERYBODY on a train because he was having a mental breakdown. This sort of policing ALREADY HAPPENS to us. Hell, even white gays with any sense of community should be aware of how queer gatherings would be shut down for "noise" (when in reality it was bc it was homophobia).

And now people want me to empathize that YOU'RE oppressed by... noise? On Public Transit?? IN PUBLIC?? Kiss my ass lmao.

I've been on trains where a man was legit growling at me like he wanted me dead. Another i saw Teens high on crack. Another where people beg and people sleep and people listen to music. And you know what I did? I turned my OWN music up and went on my way. Because at the end of the day, the only person I control is me!

And if people were REALLY concerned about others welfare, they would COMMUNICATE. no one is willing to say "hey, I have a headache, do you mind-" bc they're afraid of the rejection, so it's easier to demand "well EVERYONE SHOULD BE LIKE ME". Mhm. Learn to confront your issues. But you're not "unsafe" bc music. You're just annoyed, and you'll get over it.

In summary it really gives me "I can give you something to cry about" energy. Bc y'all swear y'all don't understand the existence of an HOA but here yall are replicating the same Karen behaviors, and y'all don't even realize (or maybe even care) how racist you sound. But why would you lmao, that makes you uncomfortable! And damnit, you have a right to comfort!!

[hoseoksluna]

ICHOR | jjk

pairing: idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: after a bad day at work, you lose a sense of yourself and jungkook leads you right back to her.

warnings: crying, capitalism, death metaphors, sadness, jungkook is sweaty and is wearing that nike shirt he wore in his working out live, has fluffy hair!

note: hiii, bubbas, so this is fluff fic is partly for @frmisnow bc she inspired me to write this & i also want to make her feel better with this sacchariny-sweet jungkook, partly for me bc i genuinely wrote in detail about what i went through at work these past two days. and, also, for all you guys because i made you go through reading about such evil jungkook in my last berries fic. i hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. here's to a bit of happiness in our lives *cheers with an imaginary glass of imaginary pink, glittery, strong, fairy alcohol*. <3

You used to be a goddess, the ichor in your veins carried the color of roses, glinted with flecks of gold that would radiate your skin from beneath, make any heads turn, especially the one you loved the most. Customers at work smiled upon seeing your cordial aura, close-knit even though they were mere strangers, preferred to go to you amidst the flock of your other colleagues around. They would become radiated just the same, joy so terribly evident on their faces as their smile would grow. They would frown upon seeing the state of you at this current moment—curled up on your bed while the heat of the beginning of the summer clings to your near bareness, coming through your wide opened windows, the white, translucent curtains billowing up and down in their strange, but magnolious dance. 

You’re not Aphrodite. You’re not Euphrosyne, the goddess of joy and mirth, either. 

You’re the slain fawn at their feet—for their very own feast and for the feast of those aforementioned customers, who stand behind the dryly bloodied cause of your death. 

Work was hell, to say the least. 

You always thought death was a kind embrace, not a tight clasp of doom around the nape of your neck, your mental strain and disquietude the half moon marks that ever so slowly deepen. You mimic the movement on the hem of the linen shirt you wore for the day, one that you were too drowsy to take off when you arrived at home, having only a slight wisp of an energy to rid yourself of the uncomfortable tightness of your jeans and crawl onto your bed, knees to chest, on your side. You bunch up the fabric in your fist, wrinkling it, but you hardly vanquish the cuts that your anxiety slashes on your skin. You thought it would alleviate you of your tenseness, but as it seems—it only worsened it. 

You don’t even have tears to shed. Wept them all out in your manager’s office while she harshly, yet calmly reprimanded you for your mistake and the gravity of the fact that you almost lost your precious job, that you can’t imagine living without, washed over you and pained you like a splash of salty water in your eyes. Wept them all out when you breathed in the crooked, paralyzed expression of disappointment in her face—and that’s the sole thing that emptied out your system of that ichor, wiped out your reputation of being a good, reliable employee that everybody liked. 

Now the next unfolding of your days spent at work shall be filled with silent judgements and secretive gossip, the big talk of the entire building—something that will hang by the strands of your hair for every head to turn to until something else comes along. Another topic, another fuck-up. That’s the face of modern capitalism, the absurdity of day-to-day normalcy its features, and you’re so sick, so repulsed to be staring at it every single day of your life that you yearn to not be anymore. 

Death has flattened over you, but has not finished its job. It was Dante who described the process of hell in his Divine Comedy and you hate him for the rotten pulchritude of his mind because you find yourself to be standing in the middle of inferno with no guide—no Virgil, no Beatrice—to hold your hand and lead you through this scalding maze. You’re all alone, your mistake carving the branches of the trees burning down in your hell over your burdened, heavy heart that has been longing for the company of another ever since you walked out of your manager’s office. 

Your face screws as another agonized emotion rises in you. You can’t stand your aloneness, can’t stand your burden—and before you realize what you’re doing, your fingers have already tapped on your boyfriend’s name in your history of calls. The screen of your phone is cool against the fever of your cheek and you rub your face harder against your duvet, staining the strawberry pattern with the particular tinge of your makeup, which must have been the color of your ichor. 

You wince, the rings prolonging in your ear, your impatience running thin. 

Then, your heart drops once you hear the broken whisper of your Beatrice, faintly, barely, which causes your heart to spread its longing. Damn iPhones and their bad service. 

“Jungkook?” you call out, nonsense coming through the other end—and you repeat his name until his voice smooths out, relief sinking in like a stone in a pond. 

It turns out you were exchanging each other’s names and the intimacy of it curls the smallest of smiles on your mouth. You miss him; you need him. 

“When are you coming home?” you ask, wishing to descend into the emitting waves of the call, slide through them until you spring to wherever he is, no matter how tired you are—you’re willing to cross the distance. 

You hear him turn on his blinker and your heart almost does it for you. 

“I’m driving home right now. I’ll be there in ten,” he says and your relief expands in your chest, taking a small weight off of your heart. You place your palm against it. 

“Okay.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Why do you sound so sad?” 

Your mouth curls downwards. “Something happened at work.” 

An inhale of breath. “Screw that, baby. I’ll be there in five, okay?” 

A whimper. “Okay, drive safe.” 

And your Beatrice didn’t lie to you. Soon, you hear the banging of the front door closing, the tossing of his keys and the prodding open of your shared bedroom door. The hastened footsteps, hefty on the floating floor, the squeak of the mattress as his knee dips on it and the glide of his hand up your thigh. All before you use the last of your strength to focus your swimming vision on him. 

Hearing him alone helped you take a step further in your inferno. 

And then you can smell him. The scent of sweat clinging to his favorite ivory Nike shirt, interlaced with his natural, poetic scent, creating something divine that blesses you with the strength to place your palm on top of his hand. Your coworkers hugged you earlier, clasped your hands in theirs in reassurement and more than welcome it, you absolutely despised it. Lingered in their affection only because you thought you should let yourself be consoled, for you know they care about you. But his touch… that’s not something you sense your body to want to run away from. On the contrary, it seems to be something that it’s missing. 

You can’t part the stream of your new tears with your other hand. 

You spill, completely. 

Jungkook coos, squeezing the bare flesh of your thigh as turns you onto your back and nudges himself between them, plopping his body on top of yours. And then, he’s kissing the place your undone shirt made for him, trailing his lips up your neck, where he stays, where he conjures a garden of fluttering gardenias, their tender petals tickling you. 

“What did they do to my princess?” he murmurs against your skin, his words muffled but heard clearly by your ears. You sob, your chest shuddering in violent staccatos against his, unable to settle, unable to speak. Jungkook lifts his small head and frowns, his thumb swiping your tears away while the rest of his four fingers cradle your cheek. You lean into the balmy safety of the realm of his palm, gaze fixed on the wrinkle between his brows, mouth letting out puffs of soft, gentle exhales. He kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, the wetness of your other cheek—buries his nose into it, right beside yours, inhaling you, giving you fresh air to breathe in. “Don’t cry. I’m gonna decapitate them.” 

The whisper, the hand that parted the stream. You whimper and he steals the traces of your despondency, pecking the new, smooth surface, planting roses to bloom, its roots bestowing you with the ability of speech. 

Two sentences, two miles further in the inferno. Your burnt down trees are lost in the far distance, swallowed by the fire, yet the forest shows every sign of growing anew the longer Jungkook’s heart beats against your breast. 

He’s so benevolently patient with you, not rushing you with your explanation. It all the more drives you to disclose it to him—and you open your mouth to speak, your fingers following suit, helping you with your words as you drag them through the soft mop of his fluffy hair. 

“I made a mistake yesterday while closing up,” you croak out, licking your lips. Jungkook lifts himself onto his elbows, clutching your shoulders, keeping the close proximity intact. His warm grip is a stability you lean on, one you appreciate with every broken shard in you. “I did it five minutes earlier and somebody came in. I sent them away and they filed a complaint against me. They wrote an email to my manager and I… I almost lost my job.”

The wrinkle between his brows deepens and you thumb it, wishing it away. You don’t want to mar his beautiful face because of your foolishness; you want it to remain that soft ball of light that he always is, but then you realize you’re asking for the impossible. His mouth flattens, pity flashes across his round eyes, which helps you perceive that if he didn’t react like this, he wouldn’t love you—and his love is the air you breathe; his love is the ointment you need for your sadness. 

As if he heard you, he kisses you delicately and you sail—skip the purgatory and land in paradiso, a meadow of wildflowers overlooking a cliff that opens the restfulness of the sea, scattered with windswept petals of those lost blossoms, coloring the surface with pinks, whites and the greens of their leaves. 

“Did your manager yell at you?” Jungkook questions, his lips lifted a millimeter above yours, his thumbs fondling the fabric of your shirt upon your shoulders. 

“No, but she was very strict with me. Told me not to cry—”

His breath wafts over your face when he looks into your eyes, displeased. “She made you cry?” 

You cried because through her words you comprehended the gravity of your mistake and its repercussions, not because she deliberately used them to open the dam of your emotions. It’s precisely why she told you not to cry, giving you a hint of her perpetually nonexistent compassion. And you tell him. 

“No, she didn’t. She was very professional with me and made me realize what I did after I apologized. I cried because I was so scared of losing my job, of disappointing her and shit like that.” 

Jungkook purses his lips, shaking his head, curly strands rippling like the tremor of leaves. “She should’ve dropped it after you apologized. Five minutes is nothing, baby. You did nothing to deserve to be treated like that.” 

Your chest heaves, his love and reassurement sifting sand into your bloodstream, the color of ichor. “I know but… you know,” you trail off, indicating the realm of respect all peers must have for the management that you don’t really want to venture into, not when Jungkook had to deal with it as well in his music company. But unlike you, he broke out of its clutches. It cost him tears, frustration and weight loss, but now he’s a free bird of paradise. You don’t wish to make him remember his cage. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah, baby, I know, which is why I’m telling you that you didn’t deserve that.” 

Your chin quivers, the negative thoughts that wore you down in his absence returning at full speed. “It affects my mental health when I’m bad at my job.” 

Brows rounding upwards, his eyes flick to your chin, a glossy wetness coating them. He pecks it before he gazes into your irises. “But you’re not bad at your job. You just closed a few minutes earlier. You’re amazing at your job. You make people happy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” he says, meaning every word with the way he presses each one into your pupils. You feel its magnetism and you take it. “And I’m proud of you. Every day. You work so hard. Come home tired every day. Deal with people who aren’t always nice to you with kindness that I envy. I’m proud of you, you hear me? You didn’t make a mistake. You did good.”

And there it is, the stampede of your bloodstream—Jungkook has seeped the entirety of the sand until he emptied out his hand and your ichor charges forward, its light like a bud flaring open beneath your skin. And you're floating on that sea in paradiso, your braid adorned with the wet petals that swims back and forth to his arm that holds your body steady upon the surface, the names of the Greek goddesses lining every perimeter, sinking within. 

You’ve become them, all over again. 

“Thank you, Ggukie,” you whisper, running your hand through the front bangs of his hair, gripping them. It’s as if you’re holding the petals. “I needed to hear that.” 

He pouts, touched by the love name. “I know. You need to rest now after such an emotionally exhausting day. No more tears, okay?” 

You nod, feeling whole, feeling like you can face tomorrow with more courage. “Okay.” 

You pout, mimicking him, asking for a kiss and he gives it to you in that same delicate manner, plunging the entirety of the summer’s heat, molded by his hands, into you, making it bearable for you. 

Looks at you for a long time, after. Smiling. 

“You know, I didn’t take a shower after the gym for you,” he says, quirking a smile on your face.

You’re intimately acknowledged with the reason why, yet still you ask: “Why’s that?” 

He reciprocates the smile. “I thought you’d help me wash up. My muscles are sore and all. I lifted the double amount of your body weight.” 

You bite your lip. You’re willing to wash every inch of him with your utmost care. You deem he deserves it for enlivening you, but you’d much rather stay here, inhaling that dizzying scent of him. 

“I’ll do that, but let’s stay here for a little while.” 

Jungkook nods, kissing your jaw before he finds a comfortable place on your bosom, listening to the rush of your ichor, the sun rays upon the sea of that paradiso, inching you closer and closer to God. Augments the ending of that Divine Comedy. 

Doesn’t lead you to the final installment of death, but pushes you to life full of that brisk wind, the humming of the sea and the song of swaying wildflowers. 

Holds your hand. 

Doesn’t let go. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist

[sexlapis]

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

[inkdrinkerworld]

ahhh i love chubby!reader and spencer!! what if she overheard someone talking about her weight in a negative way and when she runs into spencer he instantly goes into his own kind of awkward comfort mode bc he secretly has THE biggest crush on you and any other time he would be VERY proud that he managed to get you to hug him but now you’re crying and oh no he doesn’t want you to be sad especially not over the way you look!!

It’s gross. To hear people make comments about your body behind your back in the way you do.

It’s all snide, backhanded comments disguised as compliments. Your stomach rolls because none of your team is near enough to hear them and you don’t feel like making a scene.

Your mind changes when you hear, ‘And it’s so obvious she likes him but what would he do with a girl like her? He’s less than half her size. She doesn't deserve someone like him.’

Your blood boils and you flick away imaginary dust and lint from your clothes before making yourself known.

“You might not like the way I look but you’re much more unattractive than you find me because that’s just vile. You should be ashamed of yourselves. It's none of your business but Spencer and I are dating.”

The local officers blanch and you walk off ignoring their stunned silence and stutters for an apology.

Your hands shake as you sit next to your team and you’re silly for thinking Spencer wouldn’t notice it. Spencer noticed when you had dusted the ends of your hair a week ago.

"Are you okay?" he asks, voice so low it's barely a murmur. Spencer's eyes remain trained on you as you nibble on your lip trying to decide what to do.

"I've been better," you say and Hotch saves you from more questions by instructing, "Y/N I need you to speak to the local police and get every name they have for people who came in."

No one else notices the way your back stiffens as you stand. Spencer does, "I'll go with her, and we'll call Garcia."

Spencer takes you to a secluded hallway and tips your chin up, "What happened, sweetheart?" it's cruel for him to whip that out at work, but it has the same effect it does when you're at home curled in his lap while reading.

"The locals were saying things about me- which is fine, I'm not everybody's cup of tea. But they were extra mean and rude about it." you debate whether to say the rest, but it comes out before you come to a real decision. "They said they don't know why I think I deserve your attention and they said you're too small to be with someone like me."

Spencer gasps like you've burnt him. He feels heat searing his chest as he replays your words. He doesn't know exactly how to comfort you without his words being hard and rough.

"But I stood up for myself," that eases some of the pressure in his chest. "I told them they should be ashamed of themselves and that I wasn't just some girl pining after you and we were together."

Spencer presses his forehead into yours. "I'm glad you stood up for yourself, but you shouldn't have to defend yourself at work or in general. You're amazing and stunning and you're more than anything I could've dreamt up for myself."

His words are soft, sweet and it melts the remaining worry in your bones that even though Spencer loves you, he had regrets.

"They're fucking assholes," he deadpans quietly and you laugh. "But we have a job to do so we'll be civil for the rest of the time we're here but the second we're done, we're messing with them."

[scoobydoodean]

hot take ig but… dean wanting to contain jack was not cruel or even a bad idea…

first, it was not just dean’s idea. sam agreed, and cas had basically the same idea, just using the cage instead. but for some reason everybody ignores this!! second, containing dangerous people is what they always do. sam and cas have done so to dean. the s5 finale was all about locking up a dangerous powerful being. and there are other examples! third, jack was the most powerful being in the universe and had no soul meaning no ability to discern right from wrong. he was killing people! and they’ve always seen soulless people as dangerous. dean was willing to let sam die via the process of returning his soul bc he saw that soulless sam was not sam. and sam agreed!

like. yes dean was not handling the situation well, let alone gently, so i understand why sam and cas were frustrated. but his mother had just been killed (and ftr i do think cas was being kind of insensitive about it), and jack was still killing other people. dean’s allowed to be angry. he was being outwardly meaner, but sam was agreeing with him (he said a part of him wanted jack dead!) up until the point that dean actually agreed to kill jack for chuck.

idk i just feel like people really exaggerate dean’s actions in this situation especially in comparison to what sam and cas were saying and/or doing too. so i’m just wondering what you think of all of this? do you think dean was “right” or was he overreacting? or do you think the audience is too hard on dean (as always :/) about this? could this be another version of samdela effect? cause i feel like people misremember what the others were saying/doing in order to put more on dean…

also omg i just realized how long this became, so so sorry for the long rant!! if you can respond, thank you!

*opens my coat* would you care for some memes?

I will take your hot take and flambé it. When it comes to this subject, I don't feel inclined to be patient with fandom or carefully lay anything out piece by piece. I'm sick and tired of hearing about what a betrayal it was to put Jack in the box and how mean and evil and abusive it was blah blah blah cry me a river. I was there watching when that episode aired and saw how stupid everyone was about that episode in real time and it was annoying then and it continues to be annoying that almost no one seems to bother putting a single granule of thought into this episode or what Sam and Dean were thinking or what the stakes actually were. And yeah—it was not just Dean who did that despite the samdela effect hard at work causing people to insist Dean somehow forced Sam to go along with him when that categorically did not happen.

People act like Jack was just standing there shitting rainbows and unicorns out of his ass and Dean turned around and strangled him to death for it. What happened was Soulless Jack killed Sam and Dean's mom and then went off and turned someone into a pillar of salt for being an atheist and filled someone else's body with worms to punish them for not wanting to be turned into an angel. Then he showed up at the bunker trying to make nice in the most hauntingly emotionless way possible—calling killing Mary an accident and then in his next breath saying he snapped and killed her because she threatened to reveal that the manner in which he killed Nick was scary and disturbed. In other words—he made it very clear to Mary's sons that murdering her was not actually a fucking accident at all even while he was calling it one.

Jack: I know -- I know things have been bad. A-And, if it helps, I regret it. The accident. Sam: The -- The accident? Jack: What happened to Mary. She kept talking about my soul, t-that I didn't have a soul, and she kept pushing. Dean: Oh, so she made you do it. Jack: No, it -- it was me, but I didn't want this no-soul thing to become an issue between us. I guess I snapped. Before I knew it, it was all over. Dean: "It" being the accident.

So Sam and Dean tricked him (the most powerful being in all creation) into getting in a box and he sat in there for 10 minutes. Oh no. How horrible.

A lot of the stupid fandom response to this is rooted in the babyfication of Jack that ran rampant within fandom at the time and continues in many circles. I happen to like Jack, and when I say that, I mean that I actually like him, and not the fanon adultbabydestiellovechild the fandom invented who has the emotional and mental capacity of a two year old and can't understand the difference between right and wrong. The real Jack did understand, and the real Jack would be (and was when he returned) horrified by what soulless Jack did (and for more than just how it would impact him). Jack was always an emotional person who struggled to control great power, but he had a strong moral compass and he loved people. That Jack would never have subjected someone to the twisted biblical punishments soulless Jack did for the crime of not believing in god or in him???? That Jack would have thrown Dumah into a wall in a rage for the mere suggestion he kill people over their beliefs and said, "You're hurting people". That Jack also would have wanted Sam and Dean to lock him up to protect others.

Some of the fandom problem with this also has to do the soulless lore as a whole and the constant usage of Donatello as the "soulless people can manage" poster child. Which ignores not only soulless Jack's actual behavior and how deeply dangerous his powers make him, but... pretty much every other soulless person we ever saw in the series, from soulless Sam, to numerous victims of Amara who turned into raging murderers in season 11 after she ate their souls. Hell though—the same people who insist soulless Jack was some poor little baby who just needed gentle parenting probably also think there was nothing wrong with soulless Sam despite the fact that he watched his brother be assaulted multiple times and seemed to actively enjoy it. Just normal Sam things, right? Donatello is the exceptional soulless person—not the rule—and it's because it isn't in his best interest to make trouble.

The idea that soulless Jack could be molded was suggested by Cas, but he also (as you pointed out) ended up inquiring about putting Jack in The Cage, instead of the Ma'lak box (and after the Ma'lak box was destroyed, so it wasn't an option anymore).

Lbr—the misogyny also jumped out in this string of episodes. Countless posts one after the other about how stupid Mary was and how it was all her fault and Jack did nothing wrong. How dare she make Jack angry. God forbid. What a stupid, frail, illogical woman. She deserved to die long before that anyway because she was a terrible mother, right? I mean it was obvious this sort of nonsense would come from the fandom in advance, given how many people had meltdowns over Dean shooting Jack in the back (something that didn't hurt Jack in the least) to get him to stop strangling a black store clerk to death in 13.23. As always, the imagined frail little fee fees of the white adult baby that fans invented must supersede other people's lives. Jack should be allowed to throw whatever tantrums he wants and kill anyone he wants during them and in response, Dean should shush him and start singing lullabies and carry him to a rocking chair to nurse.

[morganbritton132]

ahhhh i just spent the last three days reading every post on the emtts tag and im in love with your whole little universe. i kept meaning to make a list of all of the little things but i kept getting distracted and forgetting so i only started at april 18th bc i NEED (subject to your willingness to expand/care act this particular part of your universe) to hear more about all of the little stories of steve getting arrested (particularly hopper arresting steve?? and them breaking into steves parents house?)

thanks for this amazing space!! you’ve made a universe that ive been thinking about constantly and that expands on the characters in such a beautiful mundane way, its very cool!!

ps i just read one of the follow ups in the death threat part where steve admits he doesn’t want to stop teaching bc dustin asks eddie about it and i think im about to cry holy shit

pps on the death threat part with diane oh god. like just steve having to figure it out in front of her and her explaining to him and him admitting to just not being ok i just

First, thank you so much! This is all so very nice of you to say and props for getting through everything in three days. It is quite a bit! It’s honestly amazing how much has been written in such a short amount of time. I’m only going to cover Steve getting ‘arrested’ and I’ll touch on Steve and Eddie’s breaking and entering at a later date.

Steve started having seizures a little after they closed the gate on the Upside Down for good or, well. They started noticing that he was having seizures after they closed the gate. It was heavily implied in the undertone of his doctor’s voice that these seizures were likely going on for a while and that they likely not going to stop anytime soon.

Steve took this news as well as anybody could.

Everybody was kinda waiting for him to have a breakdown over it, but it never happened because Steve was – well, he wasn’t fine. Obviously. But it is what it is, right? If the worst thing to come out of all this Upside Down stuff is that he’s a little dumber than he was before than how could he complain?

Max was learning how to walk again.

What Steve didn’t take well was his doctor telling him that he wasn’t allowed to drive anymore. In fact, he did not take that news at all. He completely ignored it, and he ignored the looks that Robin when give him when he drove himself to work, and he would say, “It’s not like I’m driving the kids around or anything. It’s just me.”

“And that’s supposed to make me worry less?”

“I pull over if I feel weird.”

He wasn’t actually driving all that much anyways. Robin got her permit and Eddie got the all-clear to drive again, so no one needed to rope Nancy into lecturing him about ‘the dangers.’ He didn’t need Dustin’s complaining or Eddie’s ‘hey, maybe you should listen to them’ or Joyce stopping him on his way out the door. And he didn’t need Hopper.

Steve was learning to accept that sometimes he needed help. He was doing better, but Steve practically lived alone despite the jokes people were making about him being at Eddie’s all the time, and he wasn’t going to bother someone just because he needed toilet paper.

Steve was sitting in his car outside of the Fair Mart, trying to remember why he needed to go there in the first place, when there was a knock on his window. He startled and blinked hard twice before looking over at the drivers’ side window. He frowned.

Hopper was standing there and he looked annoyed. He gestured for him to get out of the car and Steve frowned more, fumbling with his seatbelt before pushing the door open. For lack of anything else to do once he was out of the car, Steve said, “Hey, what’s up?”

Hopper frowned more like he was annoyed with Steve which was, in itself, was really annoying because Steve didn’t do anything. He was just here to buy… He was here to get… Wait. “Huh?”

Hopper sighed loudly and repeated himself. Slowly. “Give me. Your keys.”

Maybe it was Hopper’s tone or maybe there was some stock in what his doctor said mood swings, or maybe Steve was just tired of everybody treating him like a baby that needed taken care of and watched. Just when Hopper reached to take the keys out of his hand, Steve shoved him away.

Everything kinda blurred at the edges and the headache that’s been wedged in the corner of Steve’s jaw pulsed. He didn’t really take a breath until Hopper shoved him against the hood of his car.

Hopper cuffed metal around his wrists and said, “Good going, Harrington.”

Steve yanked on his arm and snapped back, “You’re not even a cop anymore. You can’t arrest me.”

“Call it a citizen’s arrest.”

Eddie laughed for four minutes of Steve’s five minute phone call at the police station. He laughed so hard that Steve knew that he was holding his side where the bites were the deepest because they were still tender, and Steve just rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up. Are you gonna get me?”

“Hm, yeah,” Eddie grinned through the phone. “Yeah. It’s a little ironic that the Prom K-“

Steve hung up the phone.

The ‘charges’ that Hopper (not a cop) threatened to ‘throw the book at him’ for were driving without a valid driver’s license. There was a part of Steve that knew that this was all just for show to teach him a lesson, but still argued that he had a valid license because no one took it away from him, and actually, “This is false imprisonment, right? Maybe I should call my family lawyer.”

It was even more annoying that Eddie – rolling into the building smelling like weed an hour later – agreed with Hopper. 

[teddybeartoji]

Which jjk men are loud af in bed?

SATORU. OH MY GOD HE'S SOOO SO LOUD. he's letting out thee most pornographic moans and whines in the world that you have most definitely gotten some nasty looks from your neighbors before lmao,, but he's just so into it yk? he doesn't understand why he would ever have to hold back on the sounds bc the point of it is literally for the both of you to enjoy it right? and he wants to let you know how good you're making him feel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he definitely wants you to do the same too btw,, if you're shy abt he is gonna make it a little task for himself to coax some heavenly moans and whines out of you bc they just make him feel soo so fucking good he could literally cum just from hearing you cry out his name in pleasure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and i do think that he's also a big talker. he's praising you so much that you feel dizzy just from his words aaaand he's also asking for your praise too. "am i doing good?" "tell me how it feels, baby" "c'mon, i wanna hear you" etc etc he just cannot shut up at all (i love it so much)

SUKUNA IS SO FUCKING LOUD TOO THOUGH. he's also a talker but it's like a fucked up mixture of teasing you and praising you and mocking you,, he just loves to fluster you so much lmao he's can be so mean (affectionate) overall i also think that he's very shameless, him and satoru are very alike in this matter. he doesn't understand why he would ever hold back his groans either - if he feels good, he feels good. if somebody doesn't want to hear that they should just fuck off lmao

his voice gets extra deep and extra raspy when he's fucking you and oh god it's so fucking hot......................... tbh in a way it reminds me of like a low purr,, just imagine him staring down at you, his hand on the back of your head as you're trying to take him down your throat and he's just humming bc fuck your mouth is so warm and you look so pretty like that aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I NEED TO HEAR THATTTT

but yeah while everybody else is more like whispering when they're talking to you during sex, these two are not holding back anything they're talking in their regular tone aand when they're groaning and moaning it's almost obnoxiously loud but cmon.. we all know that none of us will complain abt that lmao

[sems-diarie]

Okay random but I hate the way NO ONE headcanons Shouto right when it comes to having a chubby girlfriend. It’s always “he doesn’t care about size/ doesn’t see size/ he so sweet, he’ll give you forehead kisses if you’re feeling down about your body” like NO! Shouto DOES know that his girlfriend’s chunky and he fucking loves it. He gets a whiff of insecurity from you and he’s fucking you raw on the patio deck and doesn’t give a flying fuck about the neighbors (who’s gonna call the cops on the number 3 hero anyway???) He LIVES between your thighs and gets hard every time you put your full weight on him. He possessive as fuck and has his hand up your skirt and on your ass constantly and don’t you even think about pulling away, this man is so clingy he will literally embarrass you in front of everybody, and it’s not that he doesn’t know, he just doesn’t care. At an event for too long? He will start whining and begging you “just let me taste it” in front of ANYBODY, the media, his fans, his pastor, he DOESNT GIVE AF. Got separated from you for 20 mins and immediately got on the microphone at his own brother’s wedding to tell you to drop whatever you were doing and meet him in the supply closet because he’s horny🥺. Shouto who’s so jealous when it comes to your attention that you two actually have arguments about it (the arguments in question being you getting mad at him for threatening some innocent random guy and him rolling your nipples between his fingers muttering “whatever you say, beautiful”) One time you even broke up with him over him almost fighting Shinsou for ‘flirting’ with you (even though Shinsou was egging him on). Not only did he not accept it, but continuously showered you with gifts and acted exactly like nothing was wrong. Don’t want him to walk you home? He’ll interpret it as you don’t want TO walk home, he’ll just call his chauffeur. Leaving his place in a huff? He’s throwing you over his shoulder and bringing you back, smacks your ass for good measure. He’s also a total perv who can’t get enough of you. He can’t even masturbate without having you perched on his thigh, soft chubby arms wrapped around his neck while he pumps himself to the sight of you. Sweet talk him and he’s instantly blowing his load all over the both of you. Speaking of sitting on him, he loves to have you sitting on his lap while he’s kissing and nipping at the soft, warm flesh of your neck, but he almost always ends up getting carried away and putting his hands places they shouldn’t (like up your shirt in the middle of a restaurant). Also loves to rub your belly after a big meal, it really activates his breeding kink and makes him want to stuff you full of something else. Anyway, I just feel like no one really captures how utterly bold, possessive and perverted he can be as if he didn’t grow up a spoiled rich kid from a family with a genetically high libido

me rolling around and crying and cumming

you sit on his lap n kiss at his neck while the sound of wet skin flaps in the back of your head :( shoto’s little moans, the raspiness in his voice when he begs you to kiss him on the mouth a little ohhh <\3

​his fav thing to do is fuck you against walls bc of how tightly you cling n clench on him <333

[kens-ramblings]

hi hello i am once again forcing all my sadness on tim drake tee hee

anyways thinking about “it’s called: free fall” by rainbow kitten surprise and him during his red robin run

specifically like ra’s trying to talk him into leaving the vigilante life and join him for the majority of the song

and the line “you say you’re too busy saving everybody else to save your self and you don’t want no help” which is basically the premise of tim’s entire life and it makes me feel things

anyways taking tim angst fic recs bc i need a good cry

[archonadeptus]

Hi ^^ ok so I got a spark of inspo and I want to get this out before I forget, Genshin x Creator! Y/n (GN) angst thing. Idea is that Creator y/n has a nightmare where their body is almost not their own and they're forced to watch themself kill all of their beloveds, then go to pov the Genshin characters and they have to watch y/n thrashing around saying little "no.."'s and "stop.."s while the Genshin characters are trying to wake them up and stop their suffering, :insert something with ur incredible imagination:, and then they finally wake up with a gasp and tears falling down their face and they hug the nearest character (say like Tighnari or someone else you choose ❤️) and then they just sob their heart out saying "I'm sorry...." Over and over again until they get comforted, then they tell the Genshin characters (I'm leaving the character choosing to you) what the nightmare was abt and then at the end they breakout crying all over again, then one big group hug later y/n is happy (but still very sorry and regretful) and it goes to fluff cuz I can't handle having my heart shattered, with y/n being a bit more clingy. The end. And ofc you don't have to do this req but it was an idea that I got just after reading one on your other fics, anywho have a good day/night/whatever the heck and take care of yourself, imma go cry bc this idea already shattered my heart thinking abt it. 🙂

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I appreciate it so much~♡ I absolutely love this idea, I love Angst and comfort so much!! I truly hope that this is everything you were looking for. I hope I shatter all of your hearts and mend them again at the end with all of the fluff! Enjoy, lovelies.♡

Edit A/N: I got a little excited and carried away I'm so sorry it's so long omg.

Characters: Tighnari, Kazuha, Wanderer, Xiao, Zhongli

Warnings: A lot of Angst within the first section. Main character deaths (in the form of a dream), upsetting scenes, mention of a character ending their own life. A lot of comfort at the end!~ (The Angst is just a dream!)

Control.

Sitting upon your throne carefully crafted by only the most glorious chunks of cor lapis and most vibrant of flowers always felt a little too much for you. Yes, you had embraced being the creator long ago, but it still felt a little too much. The way everybody would bow to you, some even looking a little afraid. Why in Teyvat would any of your own creations fear you? Then again, why were you even in your throne room to begin with? This was reserved for occasions where your beloved acolytes had assured you that your presence specifically on the throne was important, you just had to address Teyvat from your rightful place. As far as you knew, there were no emergencies that needed tending to and nobody had told you to come here.

"Tell me, what makes you think I adore you all?" Who said that? Wait, that's your voice echoing off the marble walls. Why… Why do you sound so angry? Why is your voice void of any love? Silence fell upon the room, the pressure of the air seeming to thicken. "I do require a reply, that was in no way rhetorical." Your eyes narrowed, deep golden eyes glaring down at five of your acolytes beneath you, bowing lowly on the floor. You weren't controlling your own voice, nor were you controlling your own body. Why is this happening? They all look so afraid.

"M-my divine." Zhongli spoke first, daring to lift his amber hues to meet your own. "You created us. Everything is made with nothing but your own hands and abilities. Do you not love what you have created?-"

"Shut it, Morax." Your voice was so heavy in the air, the floors lightly rumbling with an ever-growing rage. "I did not ask for a rant, just a simple reply. And did I hear you questioning me?" You stood rather abruptly, Zhonglis eyes meeting the floor once again. You summoned a weapon made of nothing but pure golden swirls, you placed the tip beneath Zhonglis chin and lifted his gaze upward to meet yours again. "I simply detest you. My most loyal acolyte? What a lie." Kazuha seemed to slowly lift his gentle tear filled gaze up, his soft doe eyes meeting your own.

"B-beloved, he didn't mean it in the way you think. We truly adore you… But please…" The sword you now wielded left Zhongli causing his gaze to move away to the floor again, it now lifted up Kazuha's gaze to meet your own.

"Beloved?" You spat out, glaring down at him. "And you too dare to question my judgement?" He slowly shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly to try and will away his pretty tears threatening to spill down his dusted cheeks.

"I-im sorry, your grace." A smirk painted itself on your lips before you knelt down a little before him.

"Let me tell you a little secret, my dearest wandering samurai. You know your beloved Tomo?" His eyes immediately filled with love and pain at the mention of the fallens name. "I had so much fun controlling his fate, you know. His obsession with the Musou no Hitotachi was such a good plan. Do you know why I led your beloved to death?" He was trying to muffle his own sobs with his hands pressed against his mouth. You… You led Tomo to death? "Because I grew bored of him. I didn't want to play with him anymore. But my goodness, seeing you watch him die certainly was a treat. I mean, look at what it did for your character development!" Why were you telling lies? This wasn't you, why can't you stop yourself? "Do you want to know what he was saying before your arrival? He was begging me to spare him for longer, just so he could say goodbye to you. To ensure you were okay." You scoffed at this, "He didn't trust that you were safe with me." Kazuhas sobs now escaped his lips as his broken stare met your own. "Ah, but maybe he was correct. I'm bored of you too, Kaedehara Kazuha. Tell me now, how badly do you wish to see him again?"

"N-no please… T-this isn't you. S-stop, I beg of you, I'll do anything." Rolling your eyes you stood,

"Your begging no longer amuses me, Kazuha. Do you desire to see what Tomo saw upon his death? Let me show you…" Before he could even cry out his love for you and his apologies, you preformed the divine punishment upon him. Though this time, it was all golden. His body lay before you, your other acolytes whimpering at the sight.

"Now, Xiao my darling." He seemed the calmest of them all, his eternal suffering allowing him to mask his emotions easily. That now though was boring to you, you wanted to see him break. "You're nothing but loyal to me, right?" Your hand gently cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing against his skin in soothing circles. He nodded eagerly, eyes on your own.

"Yes, your grace."

"Would you do anything I ask of you, beloved?" Once again, another gentle nod as his faze softened at your touch.

"Yes, your grace."

"Good boy." With a smile, you gave him his Jade Spear again, standing with him. "Kill Morax."

"Y-your grace?" Zhonglis head snapped up at your words before gazing at Xiao with the Jade spear he once gifted him.

"You heard me, darling. Kill him, he's a traitor. Did you hear how he questioned me? Did you hear his lack of faith?" Xiao's hands gripped harder onto the spear before his eyes met Zhonglis again.

"Child, you must." He sighed, lowering his head. "It is what our creator desires. I deserve this punishment…" Xiao raised the spear as you smiled brightly, stepping back.

"Any last words, Rex Lapis?" Zhongli knelt on his knees, gazing up at Xiao.

"It was an honour to fight beside you, to raise you, and die by your hands my Adeptus. You are my strongest warrior, and you shall always shine like gold within my memories. Even during death." Xiao shook, eyes finally filling with tears. Did he… have to do this? Did he have to kill him… n-no. There must be another way for him. Immediately he lowered his spear and fell down to the ground before your throne once you sat back upon it.

"Your grace, please. Spare him, let me die in his place"

"Oh how boring. I would have thought you'd at least inflicted some damage. Not even offering Tighnari over there as a substitute? Or Wanderer? No?" Rolling your eyes you hummed. "Very well. Put on a show for me." Xiao simply nodded, Zhongli however stood and began to rush over to Xiao.

"No!" Golden chains soon shoved him to the ground. "You cannot make him do this! This is unjust, your grace." His eyes shone as he struggled against the ever strengthening chains.

"Unjust?" You smirked, "I see now that I sit before Rex Lapis and not Zhongli. Only the God of contracts would have the will of stone to dare question his creator." He growled lowly, golden markings forming upon his skin.

"Do not lay a hand upon him." You giggled, throwing your head back in glee against your throne.

"Me? Lay a hand upon him? No, no. I think you'll find yourself quite mistaken there, Morax. For he shall kill himself." Without another word needed from you, Xiao did just as you had said. He laid there before your throne, body weak as he whined and reached for you within his final moments. At this, you simply smacked his hand away and sighed. Zhongli was screaming with rage at this point, nothing but agony filling his body. Wanderer and Tighnari simply sat there and watched it all.

"H-how could you kill off your own acolytes like this?"

"Ah look who's finally decided to join this wonderful discussion of ours~ If another word leaves your lips, I too shall end you Tighnari. I'm not interested in you right now…" Your golden eyes drifted over to wanderer. "I'm interested in him."

You knew Wanderer was panicking, all of the memories about being abandoned, tortured and broken replaying in his head. You were watching his memories and his thoughts, they made the real you scream in upset. Surely all of this wasn't happening right now?

"My dear Wanderer." His doe eyes gazed at you longingly. Ah, so this wasn't Wanderer. This was your beloved Kunikuzushi, before you got bored and put him through suffering so all of his love and loyalty would belong to you. "My darling Kuni… You love me, don't you?"

"Y-yes my divine." You smiled brightly, moving over to him and removing his hat to pat his head.

"Good boy. How will you prove your love to me, Kuni?" He scrunched his eyebrows in thought, it was almost beyond adorable.

"However you see fit. You have all of me, my Divine." You smiled brightly before humming again.

"Then perish just for me? Just like Xiao?" He simply nodded almost like he was in a trance.

"Yes, my divine."

No. No. No. No! No!

"NO MORE!" Your eyes snapped open as you threw yourself up into a sitting position, out of it and seeming to be in a half awake dream state. You were pushing whoever was around you away, whilst simultaneously trying to pull them closer.

"What's going on? Your grace, wake up now." Wanderer sighed whilst trying to hold you still to prevent you from hurting yourself in your panic.

"Hey, hey!" Was that Wanderer? "Calm it down love… Wake up." You began to scream, the dream still feeling so real. Tears rapidly rolled down your face as firm hands gripped onto your shoulders. "Hey! Fox boy! Get here now!" In any other circumstance, if you were fully awake, you would have giggled at Wanderers words. But not now, not when you killed them all. Not when you forced Tighnari and Zhongli to witness such brutal deaths.

"Seriously?! 'Wake up now?' That's all you could think of saying? I tried that already!" He growled lowly as he struggled to keep you calm, your cries and screaming tearing at what heart he wished he had.

"Our divine can hear our voices, that will keep them grounded onto something and saying 'wake up' just proves to them they're in a dream." Tighnari snapped lightly whilst fumbling in his bag before pulling out an orb filled with plants. "Hold them still!"

"What does it look like I'm trying to do? I'm not just sitting here for my own amusement." He spoke harshly to others, but his lips moved by your ear as he whispered. "Shh, I've got you. Everythings alright now, I'm here, I've got you. Love… Come back to me." At his gentle tone, your screams lessened into light whimpers. This prompted Tighnari to place the orb beneath your nose, and once the sharp smell of several herbs filled your senses your eyes snapped open.

"KAZUHA!" You panted, starting to cry again hiding within Wanderers arms. "X-xiao! Wanderer- What have I done?!" Tighnari immediately moved the orb away, tucking it back into his bag as he cupped your cheeks so you looked at him. Wanderer was a little taken aback at the possessive feeling within him especially after hearing you call his name like that. He'd never seen you look so helpless, almost like the way he once was when he was known as Kunikuzushi. Tighnari offered you the most reassuring smile he could,

"Hey there my Lotus, we've got you now. You're here darling, you're away from that place." Your whimpers shattered his heart, yet due to calling his name you didn't see Xiao rapidly approaching.

"Get away from them! What happened?" He moved to push them away to check to ensure you were alright, but Wanderer just shoved him away with his leg as he continued to hold you.

"Watch yourself little Adeptus, don't take what isn't yours." Xiao opened his mouth to say something more before Zhongli cut them off once walking into the room.

"Do not upset our Divine any further, your rage is distressing them." Xiao gazed at your tear stained face, but once your shaky hand reached up to his cheek curiosity filled his mind from your words.

"You're alive…"

"Yes, I am alive." He responded quickly, confused as to why you were asking. His debt didn't affect him whilst you were there, why would he be dead? Your head turned to see Wanderer holding you safely in his arms.

"Wanderer… My Kuni - you're alive too." Your eyes trailed around the room to try and find Kazuha. Where was he? Did you actually kill him whilst that horrible nightmare possessed your body? "Kazuha. Where is Kazuha?" You immediately stood up despite shaking, it felt like your body was still gaining its rightful strength after your dream. As you heard once in a previous life, all dreams pass a realm of reality. You tried to move forward, only for Xiao to hold you safely as you fell a little. Zhongli placed his hand upon your back,

"Tighnari, please go and get the samurai. I believe this is the only way we can calm them." Tighnari nodded before giving you one last look before leaving to quickly go and find Kazuha. He was always wandering your serenitea pot lands at this time, he wouldn't be too hard to track down. They soon moved you back down to sit upon the sofa again trying to keep your attention on them and not on the nightmare.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." Your tone was filled with nothing but heartbreak, your tears rolling down your flushed cheeks once again. "I'm sorry, please forgive me. Please don't hate me, I don't think I can bear it." Your soft sobs and begging flickered panic within your acolytes' hearts. Their own creator was begging them… This felt so wrong.

A bang from the main door made you jump whilst the others summoned their weapons to protect you, Wanderer standing in front of you to shield you with himself.

"Your grace!" The sound of Kazuha's voice made you sob out in relief as you pushed past to bring him into your arms, fist clinging onto Xiao's clothes as you held him.

"You're alive. You're both alive - you're okay." Taking a shaky breath in between your sobs you continued to cry out apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm so truly sorry." Falling to your knees, the wandering samurai and adeptus followed your lead and dropped to their knees with you to bring you into their warm embrace.

"My beloved divine, I am here now. I'm so sorry I'm late, dearest. I won't leave your side now okay?" You nodded against his warmth, hiccuping as after a while your sobs slowed.

"I killed you. I killed you Kazuha, fed you dreadful lies then killed you." Taking a jagged breath inward, your eyes met Xiaos. "You ended your own life due to my words in return for me sparing Morax. I- … I then went to kill Wanderer the same way as Xiao before waking. I forced Tighnari to watch all of it, I was so horrid I couldn't control my own body. Please, forgive me." A cup of cold water was soon brought to your lips by Tighnari as both anemo users held you closer. Softly sniffling, you began to drink slowly before coughing a little.

"Gentle, your grace. Do not rush…" Xiao gazed at you sorrowfully before looking downwards.

"No, you do not need to be forgiven. I do. If I was here, I would have destroyed the dream before it dared to even look upon you."

"Xiao," Zhongli began, his hand upon Xiao's head with a gentle smile. "Not now. This wasn't your fault, nor was it our divines. Bad dreams happen, I've seen my fair share during my lifetime. Many were brutal from the archon war." He sighed lightly, placing his hand carefully upon your cheek trying to comfort you. "But you see, dearest, they are a manifestation of our worst thoughts. Something that you would never do turns into something so real. We are all okay now, my divine, we're all here." His touch grounded you even more as he slowly lifted your now fragile form up and into his arms before getting you comfortable back on the sofa. Wanderer was sitting beside you, hand fiddling with the divine material of your clothing. Your gentle voice was but a whisper, but it made him practically melt.

"Please, hold me?" You didn't have to ask twice. You were immediately against his chest, safe and warm. A warm hand upon your back making soothing circles. Sure, you couldn't feel any heartbeat to ground you, but he was trying by channelling power through his vision to slowly bring it to life to mimic a heartbeat.

"Your grace, you can tuck your hands into my tail. You seem chilly… And don't worry, that was a case of a night terror and sleep paralysis. I've got little herbs to ensure that won't happen to you again." He paused, smiling as you held onto his tail. A light giggle escaped your lips as Xiao moved over to dry your tears. "We know we're safe with you, just like you know you're safe with us."

"What're you looking at, grandpa? They're safe with me, they don't need any extra. Move aside." Wanderer smirked before sticking his tongue out at Zhongli causing the archon to sigh. Though he buried his head against your neck as you held onto him hiding into his warmth with only a gentle whisper to be shared between you both. "I'm not going anywhere, yeah? I won't abandon you, and you won't abandon me. I've got you, I'll keep you safe." He pressed a gentle fleeting kiss to your shoulder before Tighnari took the place beside you, his tail soon brushing against your hand.

"Such a thing won't happen again." Xiao stated a matter of factly, crossing his arms against his chest. He'd be keeping a closer eye on your dreams now, so do not fret.

"And even if it did…" Kazuha's voice soon joined in, leaning over the sofa to fiddle with your strands of hair. Oh how you melted his heart, creator. "We will forever be here to pull you out of the world of dreams. They shall never hold onto you forever, but we shall do so."

"I agree with Kazuha, your grace. Forgive our selfishness, but you cannot get rid of us so easily. We shall forever be here with you and we won't ever lose you. As, my beloved, you shine like gold to us and us alone."

You're safe with them now, and believe me when I say you don't leave their arms for a long while. They never complain about this of course as this is all they want. You.♡

You have the control, your grace. Nothing like that will ever occur unless you desire so.

[sh1-n0bu]

here's that VERY angsty kaeya x bitter choco decoration reader fic i wrote,, yippie. reader is actually based off of that song and i love the og and the rachie cover of it. i hate any other english vocaloid covers [glares at jubyphonic]

c.w // ATTEMPTED SEWERSLIDE MENTIONS, alcohol mentions, crying [reader + kaeya], slight injuries [kaeya], angst w/ comfort, two severely fucked up people, etc.

You were the sober one at the tavern. The one who never really drank actual alcohol, and mostly the one who helped the drunkards who really needed it. [Such as him and Venti.]

You were so genuine, but Kaeya knew exactly what was up. You were like him, somebody who had to please everybody no matter what. Somebody who had to hide who they truly were because if you didn't, who would stay?

Maybe that's why he fell in love with you. He wondered if you could see right through him too. [You could. You did.]

Did you love him too? [You did, you really did.]

What happened? Why would you ever even think of that? He was there for you, like you were there for him all the time-- maybe that was it. Maybe you'd had enough of comforting, and wanted to be comforted, but no one was up to the task.

Why didn't you come to him? Had you not wanted to burden him? He'd rather you come talk to him instead of this. He'd rather you come to him than he have to go and see you at the top of Starsnatch Cliff at midnight, staring over the edge, with tears spilling out of your eyes like there was no tomorrow. [If he wasn't there, you might've not had a tomorrow. Maybe that's what you wanted.]

For the first time, he saw you sob. He'd seen you cry, but god he had never seen you sob. To break down in his arms as he holds you close to his chest, afraid to let go ever again.

How ironic, you've seen him cry, to break down and sob, to pass out from so much of it-- but he's only ever seen you cry so lightly?

Maybe he blames himself. [He shouldn't. You continue to remind him of that.] He can't help it. Was it truly his fault for not recognizing the signs earlier? Why didn't he go get help?

Maybe he was all the help you wanted. Not the help you truly needed, but all you wanted.

So there you two cry, as you hold onto him so tight, nails accidentally digging deep into his shoulders, but neither of you noticed, nor did he care. [You did, but he insisted that he could care less.]

The constant streams of apologies from both sides, the holding of each other, and then the silence together. It was like the world went still. To give you two a moment. [Teyvat truly did pity you two.]

You two promised to get better. Together, this time. You all had your ups and downs, like everyone else did, but that didn't make your problems any less significant. You were going to try and fix them together, and if you can't, then you were going to try and accept them.

You were going to try and accept them as a part of who you two were.

And that's totally okay.

-🕴️

sobbing bc damn this was so self indulgent of me and my old kaeya kinnie moments are coming back sobs

[stilldancewithyou]

What are your thoughts on the carnival scene both in the book and the show? Was Conrad really interested in the girl from the ring toss or do you think his sole purpose was winning Belly Junior Mint?

There is this weird dynamic between them where they kind of assume that the other knows how they feel because they do have a great understanding between them but that's where the problems arise because they put too much weight on the silent understanding between them & forget to communicate their actual feelings. I think he thought she fully understood the significance of the original Junior Mint moment (and she clearly DID kind of get it bc she held onto Junior Mint all this time and the bear was really important to her, and everybody knows/recognizes how much she loves Junior Mint, although it's heavily implied at least to me that no one else actually knows how she got him or what he REALLY means).

My book girlies know this, but it comes to light in Conrad's letters that not only does he vividly remember the day he won her the bear, but he also spent $40 (at like 14 years old!!!) trying to win her the bear because he paid attention to her all summer and saw that she badly wanted it and had been eyeing it all summer (he actually says "remember how you used to go over to the ring toss and just stare at the polar bears?"). I think he got confused when Belly got all standoffish about it but also didn't know what to do about his feelings at that point in time (which is why he said that the girl said Junior Mint was the best prize they had. it was easier & less vulnerable than saying "I think I might have romantic feelings for you too and I just spent hours trying to win this for you because I know how much you wanted it and I wanted you to spend time with you") so he didn't try to explain it to Belly & ended up hanging out with ring toss girl that summer as a distraction in a way. But then the present scene...he wanted to remind her of that memory and he wanted her to know he remembered it and that it mattered to him & he wanted her to know he still thinks about her and loves her and wants her back. And Belly is in the mindset she was in in the 2nd book where she still loves him but doesn't want to & is tempted to go back to him but feels like she has to prove a point to herself and everyone else that she is over him and doesn't need him. I also think she spent so long being in love with him with everyone knowing & teasing her about it and it made her feel like it was the child like and immature thing to be with him, so she wants to show that she has "outgrown" him, and she's not a dumb 13 year old kid with a crush anymore.

I think Conrad probably did think the ring toss girl was cute, he was a 14 year old boy so you can't really fault him for being a little interested in her and hanging out with her, and also Belly got upset and he probably didn't understand that he had inadvertently hurt her feelings. He wanted to win her the bear he knew she had been wanting and make her happy, and it backfired (Which probably fed his anxiety and feelings of not being worthy and always fucking up and disappointing people but especially Belly). I think that moment would have been different if Belly had stayed there while he was trying to win her the bear- she made an assumption to start out and ran away without ever actually knowing what really happened (kind of like the prom moment). I think the fact that Conrad still remembered and thought about winning her Junior Mint even 8-9 years later kind of says it all. And the way he boops Junior Mint in the show in season 1...that man knows it was never about the ring toss girl.

Also it just occurred to me that maybe he had spent time noticing the ring toss girl because he had already spent a lot of time noticing Belly go to the ring toss and staring at the polar bears and also maybe he had already spent time trying to win Belly the bear during that summer. ok I'm gonna go cry because that makes it SO MUCH SWEETER.